Perfect Little Lie
by Strawberry Smirks
Summary: It was the perfect little lie. It devoured each of their lies. One of them believed it, the other didn't. The others? They were casualties, but they found out they'd be entangled in this web soon. Ten years in the future, anyway.
1. Prologue: Perfect Little Lie

Hello everyone! This is my first time at fanficting and I decided, why not a drama/comedy/romance/future fic:D As always, none of the characters belong to me and I am not using this for profit. Now, onto the story!

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Ten years since…

Sempai

Ten years since he had ever been called that, 'sempai' that is.

Tamaki had never truly been an observer of time; he never made plans for the future, or thought about how his actions would affect him later down the road. Yet, now he was doing great. The dimwitted blonde was actually doing great, one could say.

He hadn't seen them in a while. A _long _while.

If it weren't for this reunion, Tamaki doubted that he would see them soon. What were they up to? He longed to know how his family was managing, even the little devils. They tried to keep contact, but it just didn't seem to work out. The Hosts faded away. And they didn't even come to Tamaki's wedding.

Oh, yes, Tamaki is married; someone he's known since high school. That eventful day has stayed in his mind, unwilling and unable to wash away. It was elegant, beautiful, any word that could describe a typical high society wedding. He doesn't remember the guests, the food, not even his tuxedo color; ten years had built up a lot of memories in Tama-chan's mind. The one detail, though, that he always recalls--that he always dwells on with a smile—is the day itself. The sky was vibrant with cheer and the weather was crisp and windy. Not so much wind as to knock someone over but just enough to gentle touch your lips and whisper the name of the one you love.

The one Tamaki loves. That's what marriage means right, _love_?

I mean, he wouldn't marry this person if he didn't love them, right?

The married Tamaki always questioned this to himself but, the funny part of it is, is that it was like he was trying to persuade someone. The only problem is, he was the only one to persuade. Of course, this newly wedded couple had their differences, even at Ouran they did. Both seemed so opposite; so contradictory. It was like they were magnets; opposite pulls yet they couldn't help but be attracted to one another. At first, the other one denied it but with a little convincing Tamaki was able to show his lover that they were destined to be. The two lived in the perfect little mansion, had the perfect little wedding, had the perfect dining set with matching utensils.

It was perfect.

But, if it was so perfect, why was Tamaki questioning himself? Ten years of wedded bliss and why now was he questioning himself? Was it because of the reunion, or maybe Tamaki had to finally face the fact that he couldn't always be happy. When he convinced his true love they were meant to be, he was really trying to convince himself.

Perfect little lie, huh?


	2. Prologue: Perfect Little Conundrum

Ten years since…

'I love you'.

I _love_ you

Ten years since he last heard, 'I love you'.

Kyouya managed everything. Whether it was files, report cards, even old baby teeth, Kyouya was a perfectionist.

He always wanted perfection.

He never attained it.

A reunion. That peculiar little thought danced around his head, which was odd because no thought danced inside Kyouya's head; it marched. It would be nice to see the old 'gang', he supposes. Catch up on the quirks and antics of each member. Cry together, laugh together, drink together; the Hosts would do this, not Kyouya; Kyouya supervises. If he were to show a weakness, a flaw if you will, that could damage his reputation as a wealthy business man. Ootori-sama wouldn't want that now, would he?

But he did show weakness.

He did show flaw.

All of this he showed, to one person.

His wedding day isn't remembered as anything special. Plain church, plain guests, plain everything. Analytical memories are all that occupy Kyouya's mind then and now.

His father would disapprove the marriage, completely. Kyouya's love wasn't anywhere near Kyouya's superiority! Luckily, father had died by the time he decided to wed.

Corporations are a dirty business.

Hit men too.

And his lover's parent would've brought up the same argument, but that one had died by then too.

**Two** hit men.

Had Kyouya ever revealed this secret to his spouse? Of course not. Not only is that illogical but it's like bringing suicide upon one's self. Kyouya used logic too much. That's what caused all this secrecy. But Kyouya did love this person.

Oh God, how Kyouya was in love.

**Love.**

Despite his constant attempt to hide it, and conceal it, this love was true. But why? This person wasn't special, nor was this person anything above average. Maybe it was how this person treated Kyouya. Any little thing, any little hello made Kyouya feel… special, despite how cliché it sounds.

Unfortunately, he doesn't think his love feels the same. Ever since the wedding, things had changed. There were no fights, nothing out of the ordinary; every aspect of their lives was plain. Kyouya's heart burned, and still is burning, with a fiery passion that no one can control. But because of the robot like nature Kyouya was brought up by; because of the monotone of his voice; because of the lack of smiles, he thinks he has pushed the one he loves away.

They're still together though. Kyouya and the one he urns for. And from the outside, they couldn't be happier. Kyouya couldn't be happier, at least.

Ten years of wedded failure,

And Kyouya still loved Tamaki.

Perfect little conundrum, huh?


	3. Battle of the Neck Tie

Kyouya's Log

June 23rd, 2017--

It's perplexing; I'm awake first. Not that Tamaki is a late awaker but I'm never one to awake earlier than him. With this spare time before his awakening, I've come to note some observations.

In the peaceful land where his slumber filled minds leads him, he is happy. I can tell by the way his mouth curves up into a half smile. So delicate and befitting of those lips which seem forbidden to me now. How I long to caress that fair layer of supple skin that is Tamaki. Each day we seem in the midst of destruction; each day I want him more.

Need him more.

God, I sound like I'm in high school again.

* * *

About noon and the odd couple were preparing for the big day.

Ouran High School reunion!

A joyful time that could brighten up the darkest and most pessimistic minds, so why weren't they speaking to each other? It wasn't an angry silence like one that comes after a horrid fight nor was it a melancholy silence like one that follows a death.

It was just _silence_.

The door to the master bathroom creaked open as steam escaped into the near empty bedroom. From the bathroom came a newly showered Kyouya adorned in half an outfit; only pants. Tamaki, on the otherhand, seemed alright; the dimwitted blonde stood in front of the dresser mirror with a simple white collared, black pant combination; a loose neck tie unwilling to obey Tamaki's command and fix itself. As Tamaki struggled with the tie, Kyouya sat in silent observation.

Even when he acted like an idiot, Tamaki was still appealing.

Restless charcoal eyes drifted from their lovers sight and onto random objects in the bedroom; the bed, the lamp, the wedding ring.

Wedding ring?

Quickly darting his eyes back to the previous sight, Kyouya saw that Tamaki's wedding finger was barren. A cold barren finger of lovelessness and avoidance of the truth.

This felt like 100 knives to Kyouya's heart.

Why wasn't Tamaki wearing the ring? Was it bothering him? Maybe Tamaki didn't love Kyouya anymore? Maybe a divorce? So many questions bouncing off the walls of Kyouya's mind that he blurted out, "Why aren't you wearing your wedding ring?" Mind you, it didn't sound desperate nor angry but instead like a simple, innocent question.

He jumped a little, Tamaki jumped a little I mean.

The scary part of the matter was was that Tamaki didn't realize he wasn't wearing the ring. "I just took it off before I showered; I'll put it on in a second," came the logical reply from Tamaki, still fighting the battle of the loose neck tie.

Tamaki never took off his wedding ring when he showed; they both knew it.

Was this the beginning of the end? No, it couldn't; Kyouya wouldn't let it be! Despite his sometimes seemingly cold tone, stoic face, and stern personality, Kyouya truly valued Tamaki. Screw it, Kyoua** loved** Tamaki! But how could he stop this tornado of a disaster before its whirlwinds of destruction blew over the small home in Kyouya's heart? He needed time to devise a plan; Ootori always needed time. This was another trademark of the young man; he wasn't spontaneous.

Spontaneous.

_I'm not spontaneous--_

The inner thoughts of the midnight haired male were interrupted by the tender voice of Tama-chan. Obviously, Tamaki lost the Battle of the Neck Tie but he thought maybe Kyouya could help with this matter. The charcoal eyed male always wore suits and was predictably business-like so Tamaki figured he'd be an expert with a matter like this.

"Kyouya, could you help me with my neck tie?" spoke the sunflowered hair male as he didn't turn back to face Kyouya but kept looking straight into the mirror before him.

It seemed a little out of character, but drastic times call for drastic measures; Kyouya knew this.

"Hai," Kyouya simply replied. Slowly standing up from the bed, Kyouya gently removed the towel that layed around his neck.

The room wasn't large yet Kyouya seemed to be walking in slow motion. Each step was coordinated with the thunderous, thumping heartbeat of the desperate man.

Now or never.

Reaching his destination, Kyouya gently placed his arms around Tamaki in order to reach the neck tie. This act didn't surprise Tamaki because this constantly happened; Tamaki was never good with ties. However, the next act was out of the ordinary for this daily routine. Instead of moving the tie up to tighten it, Kyouya moved the tie down and loosened it. Now, we all know Tamaki wasn't a genius with ties, or anything for that matter, but he was pretty positive that you must move a tie up, not down, to tighten it.

With a conundrum at hand, Tama-chan was Tama-confused. "Kyouya, what are you--"

The words halted; they interrupted themselves. In the mirror that lay before them, Tamaki noticed something unusual. The delicate skin of Kyouya's chin rested on Tamaki's shoulder. One hand moved from its original location to a strong hold on Tamaki's waist. The other had a now completely removed tie in its grasp.

A look of shock appeared on Tamaki's face. Since when was Kyouya so impulsive? So spontaneous? Not that Tamaki was complaining, it was just something new.

As the stunned Suoh tried to make syllables that would form words that would ask his spouse what was going on his thought was stiffled and his body tensed up. Gentle apricot lips pressed upon the skin they desired. Kyouya planted many small kisses along the fine neck of Ouran's previous most popular Host while using one of his hands to slowly undo Tamaki's shirt buttons.

One by one.

A small moan escaped the blonde's lips. It was music to Kyouya's ears. Not since their wedding night had the analytical man heard his partner give some sound of pleasure. They're wedding night was... different, if not anything else. It could be described but little children may scream out of fright and fangirls may break the screens of their computers. Anyway, back to the story unfolding.

Breaking the monotony of the white collared shirt was a strip of skin; all the buttons had been undone. Still kissing the neck of the fair prince, Kyouya aided with the removal of the collared shirt. Now, two barenaked chests were held together in unison; now, both of Ootori-sama's hands upon Tamaki's waist and Tamaki too caught up the ecstasty to move.

"Tamaki..." came the near silent coo of the Cool Type.

As both hands moved to unbutton Tamaki's pants, the hands of the pants' owners clamped on top of the others, stopping the action. Kyouya looked into the mirror, the look of bewilderment and misunderstanding lost in his eyes.

"Let me help you," the sly and charming words came from Tama-chan's rosy tinted lips. An inner mind sigh of relief escaped; no, it was nothing bad.

In a swift move, the princely figure turned their position so they were facing each other; both of their hands laying on a foreigner's waist. They could feel each others heat, each others warm, devotion, emotion, tenderness. Forheads against one another's, this was the first time in years they actually looked into each others eyes with sincerity. Unable to escape that wretched desire, Tamaki merged his lips with Kyouya's and submerged the two into a kiss. Lips, and tounges, were entangled; Kyouya was in a drought and Tamaki's mouth seemed to be the rain. Quenched, for the time being, the two moved their activity to the bed.

Roughly, but not as to hurt the male, Tamaki layed his lover onto the bed. For a moment, their lips parted and they were back to content filled looks into each other's eyes. Pools of violent mixed with the pools of gray and a fire was reignited.

"Kyouya, I --"

**Yous a hoeeeeeeeee ****Yous a hoeeeeeeeee ****I said that yous a hoeeeeeeeeeee**

The tune of the Ludacris' 'Yous a Hoe' ruined the moment, burried it, and spat on its grave.

Damn high school ringtones.

This could mean only one thing and one thing only; Hitachiin Hikaru and Hitachiin Kaoru. On Tamaki's graduation day, the twins programmed this ringtone to ring whenever they called. Tamaki didn't know how to do it and he never got another cellphone.

Frustration crept up every nerve of Tamaki's body as he was ready to smash the phone into little bits. In a sudden change of feeling, soft eyes lay upon the charcoal ones below him as to ask for advice.

"You'd better answer that," was all that Kyouya said.

Sighing, with a sort of sorrow caused by a ruined good time, Tamaki moved his hand and picked up the phone, still hovering over Kyouya. "Yes," came the one word greeting lined with an undertone of annoyance.

"MILORD!" duel voices of the little devil types boomed loudly through the phone.

The prince twitched. Just a little.

"Same number still milord?" Kaoru's voice poked at the lord with this remark. "I can't believe you still have that old, gaudy thing," a double poke of insult was brought by Hikaru's voice.

Even more irritated as previously, Tamaki grinded his teeth and in the most composed way that his voice would allow at the time said, "What do you want?"

A small smirk of a half smiled appeared on Kyouya's lips as he witnessed the fiasco; just like old times.

"No need to be so bitter! Ouran is wondering where their beloved prince is; why aren't you here yet?"

"Actually, this is expected of you being that you always come late but Kyouya isn't here either."

"Yeah, he isn't; that's odd, he is always on time."

"Maybe he got held up at work?"

"Maybe he's being held hostage by that S&M freak of a prince!"

The two devious twins carried on their conversation, as if Tamaki wasn't there and laughed at Hikaru's S&M reference.

Now sitting upright, Tamaki tried not to explode at the S&M reference. "I'll be there soon and I'll find Kyouya on my way," and then he hung up the phone. "Damn Hikaru and Kaoru..." the angsty princed muttered underneath his breath.

It was understood by both parties that fun time was over. Adjusting himself to the sitting position, Kyouya stated the obvious, "Maybe you should get ready."

A light smile associated with Tamaki's image appeared on his face as nodded and stood up. Before being able to walk back to the fallen collared shirt, a voice interrupted.

"Wait," came Kyouya's command. Slightly turning his body as to face Kyouya, Tamaki asked in a slightly curious manner, "What is it?"

"You might need to wage war again," and Kyouya held up the neck tie.


	4. Host Club Powers, Reactivate!

Hello all I'm having a blaaaaaaaaaaast writing this fanfic and I'm glad everyone enjoys it! Now, I've decided to stray from the angsty/drama/sadness and start taking on a more light hearted and humorous tone in the upcoming chapters; enjoy :DDD

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Ouran Private Academy is defined by one, prestigious families, and two, wealth. And prosperous people have much time on their hands. Therefore, this Ouran Host Club is about these handsome guys that have time, giving hospitality to these lovely ladies who also have time, and profit off of them. It's an elegant game unique to this super-rich school. 

Ouran Private Academy will always be defined by one, prestigious families, and two, wealth. And prosperous people have much time on their hands. Therefore, an Ouran Host Club was created to entertain lovely ladies who also have time; such a club has now been lost. Each Host has strayed but now, it's time for their Host powers to reactivate to form...

CAPTAIN PLANET!

Or, the Host Club again; your choice.

The school was still intact with the magnificence it held before they graduated. Grass, healthy as ever; trees, still abundant with Cherry Blossoms; building, still left with the memories of those who trotted the halls many years ago. In old Ouran fashion, the reception was held outside where the beauty of nature could be appreciated and the strumming of the orchestra's violins could blend in harmony with the chirping of the birds. Every person at the reunion found the weather to be lovely. Oh, I haven't mentioned the people now have I?

Well, this is Ouran and so, of course, a reunion would have some wacky twist to it. Although this twist wasn't extremely crazy, it was a little unique. Instead of having a reunion for each graduating class at a separate time, Ouran decided to combine all four grade levels of one year into one huge reunion. For example, freshmen, sophomores, juniors, and seniors would all gather at the same time; Haruhi, Hikaru, Kaoru, Tamaki, Kyouya, Hunny, and Mori would all gather at the same time. Call it eccentric but you must realize that this _is _Ouran. If random monkeys can hurl banana peels at you, then four separate class reunions could be combined into one enormous gathering.

Now we can actually talk about the people; much hasn't change. Tooru and Kanako are sharing the ultimate bliss of wedded life; Kazukiyo, still pining for his one true love; Casanova-kun still-- ...what the hell?

No one is able to forget the face of Kasanoda Ritsu, an unappealing image that could make the strongest man cry. Deep red locks, sternly wrinkled eyes, tall intimidating figure, you know, Kasanoda Ritsu. Unlike the rest of the young men who were ornamented with chic suits, eyes of millions could be caught by Ritsu's lime green, velvet, fashion victim suit. And, where was his rugged hair? It was underneath a matching lime green pimp hat with a feather. Oh! Let's not forget the pimp cane that the fashion failure was holding. So, who changed his image this time? It was the whole dojo. After Ouran, the college society wasn't familiar with the affection Bossa nova-kun, so it was decided that he needed another make over. Needless to say Ritsu wasn't please.

As much as we care about Casanova-kun, we're much more interested about the Hosts, aren't we? On the floor lined with blades of freshly cut lawn stood the most handsome men to ever grace Ouran's presence. Each one had their own unique style; each one had their own unique flare; each one of these men had a persona to them, like the Natural Type. From the bottom up, brown pointed shoes blended with khaki business pants which led to a matching blazer and plain white collared shirt ornament with a red tie. Hairstyle, the same of course; Haruhi typically enjoyed short hair. Still, she still looked like a he; why so? Why didn't Haruhi dress more...femine? Was she incognito? No, Haruhi is an innocent person. Did she turn into a stereotyped lesbian? No, Lobelia didn't brainwash her. Again, Ouran isn't a normal academy.

Freshman year; the year Fujioka Haruhi joined the Host Club and, thus, became known as a boy. Although, at the end of the year Haruhi proved she was a girl at the Ouran festival, it wasn't as simple as it sounds. Ouran determines their students by the physical examine. On said examine, Haruhi was deemed a male. Therefore, MALE Fujioka Haruhi gained **his** freshman credit; female Fujioka Haruhi didn't. So, in order to keep her freshman credits, Haru-chan had to keep up this act and remain a 'male' student. How did they explain this to the student body? Easy, it was later declared by Suoh Tamaki that Haruhi was forced to dress up as a girl for a new cross-dressing theme the Host Club was holding.

Wow, Ouran students are idiots.

Now, keeping up the 'charade' of being another gender, Haruhi dressed as stated above; it wasn't a bother. To the left of the intelligent brunette stood the dual owners of the Hitachiin Fashion Industry; Hikaru and Kaoru. Like the others, their faces matured but still held a child-like beauty that couldn't be touch. Since neither of them had married--actually, except for Tamaki and Kyouya none of the Hosts married-- it was acceptable for the two to live together; they even still dressed alike. The beautiful twins had casual jeans hanging on their hips accompanied by a white collared shirt and a loose, open, blue blazer.

What contrasted against those majestic blue blazers of the Hitachiins were the martial arts uniforms of, who else, Mitsukuni and Takashi. You see, being in a charge of a whole lineage of fighting makes you in dire need of constant practice; so much pratice that you wouldn't have time to change into proper attire for, oh, let's say a reunion. The stoic expression of Mori went unchanged while the joyful little quips of Hunny continued; it was as if they had been preserved, not a hair changed.

Each had a drink in their hands; each were engaged in conversation; each saw the secret couple approach the group. Finally, Kyouya and Tamaki arrived. Being that the tie was such a hassle, and the little venturous incidents of 'help' from Kyouya didn't actually help the situation, Tamaki ditched the tie and was left with a simple white collared shirt--unbuttoned-- along side a pair of black slacks. Kyouya, on the other hand, was beyond this casual take on formal wear. The Cool Type was equipped with an outfit similiar to the one he wore at the dance party; a three piece suit in a colorscheme of navy blue.

All eyes trailed the two as they walked side by side-- hands unlaced-- to their previous friends. It had ten years; how do you start a conversation after ten years? There was silence for a minute. Not an awkward silence that you experience when trying to avoid someone but a type of realization silence that occurs during a deep thought.

Que Hitachiins...now!

"Aaaa!" an annoyed sigh escaped their lips. "We thought you two were never going to show up!"

"My apology; my vehicle was in the shop so I had to depend on Tamaki for transport and you know how he is with being on time," he spoke as smoothly as silk.

A lie. That whole story was a lie.

Some insecurity, and also the fact that Kyouya never spoke to Tamaki about explaining themselves to the Hosts, were the reasons why Kyouya slipped that little fib about the 'transportation'.But Tamaki was too engulfed in his own blushing to notice. Despite her appearane, Haruhi looked as radiant as the first day Tamaki met his eyes up with hers. Of course, he couldn't help but blush a little. Oh, how Kyouya slightly smiled at this sight-- like a mother looking over their child.

How much he desired to wring her neck. Her pretty little neck.

"Ah, Kyouya-sempai, Tamaki-sempai," Haruhi still resorted to the old nicknames, "How have you two been?"

Both answering at the same time, one with a casual 'fine, thank you' and the other with a 'um.. well--', the lovely couple both used hand gestures; hand gestures that revealed an important tid bit of information.

"What's this?" Hikaru glanced over, grabbing Tamaki's hand.

"And this," Kaoru reinterated his brother's actions but using Kyouya's hand instead.

"Rings?" the Hitachiins muttered at the same time, a hint of surprise in their voice.

"Ooo!" little Hunny's voice rang clear, "Kyou-chan! Tama-chan! Who did you two marry?"

If it wasn't for the fact that Kaoru and Hikaru were covering the majority of the wedding bands, one could have easily seen that they had the same pattern; this wasn't the situation. As expected, Kyouya handled the fiasco with a sly undertone and, as expected, Tamaki was a wreck. Violet eyes darted from the stern face of Mori, the light of Hunny-chan, the inanimate-ness of Usa-chan, the devilish grins of Hikaru and Kaoru, the lovely half smile of Haruhi and finally settled on the usual professional look of Kyouya. His eyes were drowning in Kyouya's; looking for some advice.

"Well, you see--"

Luckily for Tamaki, there was an interruption.

Along with the sounds of ten year old engines trying to rev up came a new song booming through the speakers outside.

**Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me?**

**Don't you wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?**

Welcome to the mess known as Renge-chan.

As the hole from the unknown underground opened, many guests fell in; the hole got bigger. Instead of the cat like quickness of an entrance, it took Renge a while to enter. Now we can see why. A lasso from under the hole of hell came out and attached itself to a nearby lighting fixture.Pulling itself up, there was this massive figure; if Rosie O'Donnell and Fat Joe had a child, this would be the obese version. As soon as the figure sat itself on the main level, we could see that it looked like a beached whale in a...a sailor senshi uniform?

"OHOHOHOHO!"

Yup, that proves it. That beached whale of a sailor senshi was indeed Renge the Otaku.

Everyone's eyes emerged from their head as they viewed the newly shaped Renge. What the hell happened? Well, let's say late night eating while playing 'Roy Mustang's Alchemy Dating RPG Game' spelled trouble; F-A-T trouble.

The Twins couldn't help themselves; they had to make a crack. "Someone help it! If whales are kept out of the water too long then they can die!" Hitachiin laughs followed the Hitachiin jokes as Fujioka stares and sweatdrops appeared.

Completely ignoring the remark, the otaku continued, "Finally! Our lovely Host Club is reunited once more! Oh, so many memories! So many days have gone by without any of us lovely ladies"--Renge didn't look so 'lovely' anymore-- "have seen our Hosts' face! We must celebrate!"

Fireworks appeared, almost lighting Ritsu's green pimp suit on fire, behind Renge-chan.

"THE HOST CLUB MUST REUNITE!" the loud yell of the manager against her microphone created an annoying screeching noise against the speakers.

The Host Club, reunite? It had been a while and, besides, why reunite when they weren't even in high school anymore? This was Kyouya's logical logic, but it was overruled, for once, by the Hosts' opinions.

"Yes, milord! That's a wonderful idea," Kaoru crept up next to Tamaki's left shoulder.

"We must bring joy to the lives of these beautiful women, even if only for a day; you took a vow, remember milord?" Hikaru slithered next to Tamaki's right shoulder.

Trigger words. Trigger words.

'Vow', yes a vow. Tamaki couldn't let these amazing ladies go one more day with a visit from their adoring Host Club; imagine the agony! So, swiping the microphone from Renge, the prince proudly proclaimed, "Yes! The Host Club shall reopen today!"

The other Hosts, being Mori, Hunny, and Haruhi, simply nodded; this might be fun. A slightly bothered twitch appeared in Kyouya's left eye; just like good 'ole high school Host Club times. Meanwhile, the Hitachiins had their own plan.

"Hehehe," the two mumbled to each other. "Now we can find out who each one of them married!"

So oblivious.

So naive.


	5. Bow Chika Wow Wowaaaa

As if it was frozen since the day of their graduation, the Host Club's room was perfectly preserved; not a trinket moved nor a thing changed. The abundance of beautiful young women--beautiful young women who happened to stray away from their husbands-- brought back golden memories of the past, of better times. Background noise contributed by the enormous clock tower that loomed over the Host Club like a hawk signaled that the day was young and thus optimal for hosting activities. It was like they were teenagers once more; these dignified wives of prestigious companies were melting at a simple smile or a simple twincest act.

Pushing a cart of sweets--as always Haruhi did the physical work-- the Natural Type approached a small gaggle of girls who were flapping their gums away. Attached to a sweet smile was Haruhi's offering, "Would any of you lovely ladies like some cake?" A few blushed, as expected, and as the majority of the group politely declined, Renge attacked the cart like a wild lioness would attack a dead carcass; Haruhi slowly backed away.

Creating a very subtle MOE moment at the opposite side of the room stood Mori and Hunny. In all cuteness that a 20-something year old man had, Hunny ate, obviously, a overdecorated piece of cake. Still under the spell of a Loli-Shota character, the women smiled and nudged Hunny to eat more; to enjoy himself. With the careful eye that came to a guardian, Mori noticed a small speckle of frosting on Mitsukuni's cheek. "You have a smudge, Mitsukuni," was the miniscule sentence affliated with Mori. The taller of the two bent down and easily wiped the smudge off with a napkin. The group couldn't help but scream, "KAWAII!" and squeal afterwards.

Entertaining all the adoring customers on the left side of the room was the Hitachiin Twins. In anxious anticipation, they waited. And waited. And waited. One of them was bound to scream their heads off until finally the Little Devil types did it. Never losing one ounce of charm, Hikaru smoothly latched his hands onto Kaoru's waist and uttered the words every girl dreams of: "I don't care if our love is forbidden, Kaoru." And like a crazy stuttering child, Kaoru replied, "Oh H-H-H-Hikaru..." Then they moved into position number 69, it was called that for a reason. Chest to chest, knees interlocked, fingers entwined, and lips suspensefully to close to each other; this was position number 69. Position number 69 always was guaranteed to get a 'aw', 'MOE!', or a 'OMG1!11!!!111'. The responses came as stated. Hey, that's the magic of 69.

The main characters involved in this plot were located near the center of the room; however, they weren't together. Yet, they were close enough to feel each other's presence, thoughts, body heat. That handy dandy notebook of Kyouya's was out, but he wasn't really writing much in it. Random scribbles were the only notations in that book; see, this prop would bring back memories of the customers and thus encourage them to shell out even more money.

Married life or not, Kyouya still was the mistress of profit.

Contrary to Mother's scheming, Daddy was having fun with the reopened club; profits weren't any concern to Tamaki. Shedding a smile so luminent that it could blind a blind man, the Prince type put on his usual moves. Softly stroking his already flushed customer's hand, in a tone as sweet as the Cherry Blossoms themselves, Tamaki charmed, "Whatever whim you have I will fulfill my dear hime."

An opportunity to make any desire you wish come true? One must not take this for granted.

Hesitately, the fair lips of the woman tried to form words or syllables for that matter. "Well, Tama-kun I've seen this with..." despite her wealth and social ranking, the lady couldn't finish her sentence. No need for Tamaki to intrude, the other women did that themselves. Their words came swarming in.

"With Hikaru and Kaoru?"

"With Mori and Hunny?"

"With Haruhi and Kasanoda?" (Keep in mind, they still did believe Haruhi was a man.)

New found support and courage from the other girls prompted this one to finish her sentence. "Yes, with all of those couples I've seen this but I've never seen it between you and Kyouya-kun..." The mention of Kyouya caused not only the Shadow King to snap his head towards the girl, but it also caused the other Hosts to do the same. Caught a little bit in shock, Tamaki blinked then proceeded, "Yes, what is it?"

Armed with a tomato red blush, the woman finally blurted, "I've never seen a MOE moment between you two!" Squealing out of pure delight were the rest of the females in the room. The married couple gave each other a quick glance; how ironic. Before either of them could get a word in, the bidding began.

"I'll pay 100,000 yen to see Tamaki and Kyouya kiss!" a over excited young lady yelled.

The expression of the Hosts couldn't be described by words, so I'll just have to use internet smiley chatspeak.

The Hosts' reaction- O.o

The bidding continued.

"200,000 yen!"

"300,000 yen! I'll hide it from my husband!"

"400,000 yen! And a Twinkie!...ok, maybe not the Twinkie." (Renge's bid, of course)

Equipped with a smile only befitting to the Cool type, Kyouya respectifully addressed the bids, "That's very flattering ladies but I'm afraid Tamaki and I will have to decline."

A sullen face appeared to all the ladies of the room. What could solve this problem? A group huddle! After a few seconds of conversing, in unison the customers yelled, "We'll pay 800,000 yen!"

The Hosts' reactions- O.O O.O O.O'' :) (not applicable)

Hikaru's, Kaoru's, Haruhi's, Hunny's, and Mori's reactions respectively.

Seeing the perfect opportunity to produce some sabotage from their King, Hikaru and Kaoru dashed into Position number 1; each on one side of Tamaki, each with one arm around Tamaki; this was Position number 1. "C'mon, milord, do it for the customers!" dual voices echoed with evil grins. Deciding to play into their little game, Haruhi's support came, "All the money you make could go to a good cause like adding more books to the library."

Even when playing along, Haruhi still had to give a Haruhi reason.

Unable to answer, Tamaki turned to Kyouya, once again asking for advice. It was obvious that Kyouya wouldn't mind kissing his lover, so this would be the perfect cover up. Without saying a word, Kyouya's response was clear. Trying to act as if this was a horrible act, Tamaki sighed, "Fine." The Hosts were taken back a bit; he gave in so easily, and Kyouya didn't even protest!

One by one they stepped towards each other; one by one the girls started to faint; one by one the Hosts started wondering if they'd actually go through with it. The blonde placed his hands around the familiar hips of his beau; Kyouya relocated his hands so that they'd wrap around Tamaki's next. This was a comfortable and incredibly familiar position; it was a bit funny how everyone else in the room thought that this was a new adventurous act. A playfully smirk lay across both their lips; then, they kissed.

At that moment, at least ten of the girls dropped to the floor. Renge started to have a heart attack but I think that was because of the high cholestrol more than the kiss. Each and every Host, including the unmovable Mori, had their eyes wide open. Now it was time for Mommy and Daddy to pull apart from the kiss.

Now it was time for Mommy and Daddy to pull apart from the kiss.

Whether it was because of the scene that took place before the reunion or whether it had no reason at all, the two never unlatched themselves from their partner. Fingers came entangled in this tango of romance; lips danced passionately upon foreign territory; hands explored the other's back as if it was a strange and wonderful place. Their feet started to contribute to this dance of love as they slowly started walking towards the back wall. During this time, tounges massaged each other; tasting the sweet taste of lust and love combined into one tempting elixir.

It seems they had completely forgot where they were. Every other type was speechless, except for the Hitachiin Twins who only contributed sexy 70's porno theme music, "Bow chika--"

"Wow wowaaaaaaaa," in a break of character, Mori finished the statement. Hey, if Kyouya and Tamaki could make out in the Third Music Room then Takashi could quote sexy 70's porno music. No one seemed to mind though; all eyes were glued to the married couple.

Feet were halted as a body, Tamaki's to be specific, was pushed against a wall. It was forceful, yet definitely welcomed. Kyouya pinned his lover's hands to the wall and proceeded with kisses down his neck. Small gasps and moans escaped the succulent lips that owner was Tamaki. They would've gone farther, even as far as their wedding night but for the sake of the rating, I must say the following; an intentional 'ahem' interrupted the love feast. Haruhi, extremely amazed, surprised, and partly confused with the situation, made this gesture in order to signal them to stop. A light blush graced the Prince type's cheeks, but Mommy knew how to handle the situation. Gently letting Tamaki go, Kyouya quickly straightened up and stated in a matter-of-fact way, "There, my gorgeous guests, is your 800,000 yen's worth. Be happy to know that the money will go to a good cause."

Whew, dodged a bullet there.

The crowd didn't bother to listen to Kyouya's explaination, they were already rushing out the door trying to find a cold shower. Kaoru, Hikaru, Haruhi, Mori, and Hunny weren't spared from the unruly mob's wrath as they too were carried off by the current of MOE screaming girls. Once everyone, with the exception of the two who had caused this scene, was out, the door shut closed.

Now all that stood there were the Hosts, still baffled. It was silent, one could understand why. Finally, the innocent minded Hunny popped up with the question that everyone else had on their mind, "Are Kyouya and Tamaki married?"

Silence answered.

The Hitachiin Twins did have some input on the situation. "I know how we'll find out!" Kaoru announced. "We'll catch them in an act that'll prove that they're married!" Being the only logical one in the group, Haruhi suggested, "Why don't we just ask them if they're married?"

Turning to the girl as if she was crazy, all Hikaru and Kaoru had to say was, "Pfft, that will never work!"

Que palm against face...now!

So, it was decided.

Operation 'catch Kyouya and Tamaki doing something that'll prove they're married' begin!


	6. The Story

And then, they opened the door.


	7. Their Side

Now I know everyone's like "WTF?! What the hell was that last chapter?!?!" Well, if you just look at the last chapter's title then look at the following 2-3 chapter's titles and content then it'll make sense D

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Each tick of the clock echoed over them; each tock of the clock was a mocking them. It was the Hosts against time. 

With the absense of two Hosts, the others were outside of the room that they had been carried away from in a mob of rabid fan girls and a very hungry, hungry, Renge. It was time to intiate the plan! The only problem was that they hadn't created a plan yet. The objective would've seemed easy to accomplish; catch Kyouya and Tamaki committing an act only acceptable for a married couple. All except Haruhi stood in a huddle, trying to think of their next step in this 007 charade.

"What if we offer them cake!" ten years had passed and Hunny never ceased to give classical Hunny-like answers.

Takashi didn't bother to ask for Mitsukuni's reasoning; who could dare object a little ball of sugar? On the contrary, Hikaru didn't mind objecting to this overeating cake-aholic--who, by the way, never seems to gain weight; his blood sugar must be off the charts!

"Hunny, how is that--" And in classic Strawberry Smirks fanfiction fashion, Hikaru was interrupted. No, it wasn't by more Twincest fans; no, it wasn't by Kyouya and Tamaki emerging from the Third Music Room; no, it wasn't by Kasanoda-kun and his awful lime green pimp suit. This interruption was...unique; it falls in the same category as Kyouya and Tamaki's wedding night.

"Mmm..." a delighted groan came from within the walls of the room.

Halted and losing track of thought, all the members--including Haruhi--looked at the Third Music Room door. Inquisitive looks washed over upon each one of their faces; they were perplexed yet speechless at the same time. One of them would've spoken if the mysterious noises from inside didn't continue.

A giggle--yes, I did say a giggle--was the next sound to release itself as the beholder of it said, "Stop, that tickles..." Once baffled faces turned into wide-eyed looks as each member wondered what the hell was going on in the Host Club room. Oh, if those walls could talk they'd ask for feet so they could go run and take a cold shower. This time Kaoru was the first to break the silence as he said, "You don't think they're...you know..." Mori, again in break of character, finished Kaoru's thought, "Bow chika wow wowaaaaa?" In the past fews years, the overlooking giant had learned to be a little more to his character; to be a little more "wild". This, in turn, caused him to let his hair down and do some rebelious things. Instead of taking his coffee black, he turned edgy and added some cream. Instead of getting the maids to do his laundry, he got it dry cleaned; what a hot shot! So, with his new "wild" persona, Mori learned some new phrases; some new sexy 70's porno music phrases. Now if he'd only talk more...

As the sounds and volume increased, their curiousity did as well. Placing a hand on the doorknob, Hikaru proclaimed, "We're going in!" Kaoru gave his supporting thumbs up and Hunny jumped onto his protector's shoulders, assuming the 'let's-barge-in-on-someone' position. The door was opened a little bit--not enough to see what was inside--until Haruhi put her hand over Hikaru's and closed the door.

"You can't just barge in; that's rude," came the mother-like answer of Fujioka.

Disappointed sighs came from all those that surrounded her and protests did as well. "C'mon, Haruhi, this is the only way we can find out if they're married," Kaoru pleaded while slightly opening the door a little more. Once again, Haruhi closed the door.

"Wouldn't it be easier to ask them? Besides, whatever they're doing is their own business."

Wow. Haruhi wasn't a one of the best lawyers for no reason.

In a last effort to gain entrance into the forbidden room, all four of the Hosts put on their best 'please, please, please Haruhi!' face. After a few seconds, the young brunette placed her hand against her temple and sweatdropped, "Fine, but I'm not coming with you." Before the other Hosts even had time to hear the Natural's last remarks, they were already in the room.

Another sweatdropped invaded Haruhi's face.

What was it? Were Mommy and Daddy showing a way too detailed version on how to make a baby? Were they watching a triple x-rated video? Were they asleep? Because if they were!

Actually, everything seemed...normal?

Yes, nothing was out of the ordinary. The room was in the same condition as it was before; the curtains, still intact; the couches not soiled with unknown substances; the only flaw was that Tamaki didn't seem to be present but Kyouya didn't seem to mind. The charcoal eyed mail was standing in front of the Black Magic Club's door, ledgor in hand, writing his usual notes and observations. He seemed a little flushed but the room did seem a little warm.

They entered the room cautiously as if it was the scene of a murder. Who knows, President was missing and those groans might not of been from pleasure but from pain; Hikaru, Kaoru, Mori and Hunny could've walked into the lair of a mad man. Step by step, the small group moved to Kyouya's side. A few minutes of silent standing caused Kyouya to adjust his glasses and look up at the group. His tone took on one that wasn't of a insane murder but, instead, took on its usual monotone. "Yes?" he questioned.

Let the interrogation begin!

Hikaru was the first to fire off a question, "Where's Tamaki?"

Swiftly Kyouya retailiated, "I don't know; after the customers left, he left through the back entrance."

Hmm, made sense.

"You look a little flushed," introduced the Loli-Shota's question, "What's happened?"

Again, with the speed and percision only the Shadow King could offer he smoothly replied, "I was trying to adjust the room temperature but the thermostat broke and now the room is at 90 degrees farenheit." Although anyone could've believed that since the room's temperature was overly warm, Kaoru went to double check. "Oh yeah! Well let's just--...oh, you're right; it is broken." The sheer evidence was there; a thermostat that was clearly broken. Out of the clear, that's what Kyouya would've been if he hadn't stiffened up.

Evil smirks appeared upon the Hitachiins' pretences. "What's the matter?"

Dodging the questions as if they were bullets and he was Superman, an annoyed Kyouya said, "I got a chill up my spine, that's all. Now if you wouldn't mind, I'm calculating our profit for today." Thus entered the malicious look notorious of Ootori-sama; one that made anyone and everyone's hair stand on end.

It was almost as scary as sleepy Kyouya's glare.

Attempting to evade the uninviting look, each Host gulped and announced, "No, no, that's all; have a nice day, bye!" And they dashed out of the room into the safety of the hallway. Welcoming them was Haruhi's 'I told you that wasn't a good idea' look. They sighed and dragged their feet off towards the entrance,, Haruhi triumphantly following.

So, what had happened in the Third Music Room? Well, it looked like nothing.

Looks can be deceiving.


	8. His and His Side

Kind of awkward trying to write some parts of this chapter, yet kind of fun at the same time xD

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The time period had not reached five minutes before the two had started again.

The blonde baka was already slightly pinned to the wall so the whole process of restarting became easier. See, after the crowd, the Hosts, everyone left, the lustful couple were caught in a tangled situation. For a minute or so, they stood quietly; they exchanged half-masted, glazed looks as the question arose of what to do now. Heated from the previous charade, the answer was imminent. A smile was traded for the other's half smirk; a wanting gaze was matched with one filled to the rim with desire.

Neither of them had any objections.

Obviously.

Dominance was a trait present in both of the handsome Hosts; Kyouya's adaptation of the characteristic shined luminently in this situation. Retaking the position they were previously in, the spine tingling moves of the Cool Type were able to take affect and pin the King's hands back against the wall; pale skin once again entwined between their palms. Unlike the kiss payed by the customers, this one was not sloppy; it loomed with an elegance and a degree of clarity and romance that could only be present in private moments. Tounges wrestled. Tastes were swap.

Tamaki always tasted like charm, Kyouya seemed to note despite how unbelievable the adjective sounds. By charm, it's meant that he always tasted of an apparant and always blooming romantic appeal; like chocolate covered strawberries, rose petals, ripe tangerines, Tamaki. Not to sweet as to deter you from his lips, but it had enough flavor to enlighten any need; fufill any dream; create any paradise; exceed your greatest expectations.

No matter what the situation was, Kyouya tasted like passion; fire; heat. It's strange to fathom that someone whose chilled to the bone eyes could even comprehend such firey intensity; such desirable want and need. He tasted like what he was described as and what he ate; spicy. Kyouya's lips and tounge were drenched in a racy and piquant over coat. This coat wasn't so peppery as to make one want a glass of water, but it had enough flavor to tingle ever nerve; delight every whim; tickle every body part; fancy every taste bud.

Breaking away from the elongated embrace, violent eyes layed themselves upon the skin of the most extravagant lover on earth; lips followed. Teeth bit--not so hard as to draw blood but enough to cause delight--into the Shadow King's neck and began to lightly suck as fingers traced his every outline. Usually one to be quiet in these situations, Kyouya couldn't help it.

"Mmm..." a satisfied moan escaped the delicately sculptured lips.

The way they appeared seemed a bit silly. Still fully dressed, no article of clothing had been removed from Kyouya yet his shirt was fully unbuttoned. On the contrary, Tamaki stood bare chested with only pants applied to his fit figure. Whether they had on no clothing or all the clothing in the world, it didn't matter. As long as it was only the two of them occupying their fantasy land of ecstasy, it didn't matter. Transferring from his gentle vacuum like motions, the blonde became a tease--as fit to his nature--and slowly licked the spot he was currently at. The onix haired man, at this point, didn't care about remaining unmoved and let out a light, yet composed, giggle as he muttered to the ears of the only other in the room, "Stop, that tickles..."

Of course, Kyouya didn't want him to stop.

It was just a saying.

A tango proceeded as a means of transporting the two bodies to the couch.

One, two, three.

One, two, three.

Bodies moving rhythmically.

The light number of steps successful brought the pair to the couch where there was no haste. Forcefully--a trait that showed when he was eager-- pushing Kyouya onto the piece of furniture, this time it was Tama-chan's turn to show his dominance. He pinned the Shadow King's hands to the cushions as both their legs were also lying on the couch; Tamaki slyly slide one of his knees inbetween Kyouya's legs--a move that seemed slightly Ootori-sama in nature. The slim fingers of the father decided to banish mother's unwanted shirt and blazer; then, they proceeded to trace themselves onto their lover's chest. Dancing eliquently across the vibrant skin, Tamaki's fingers loomed over Kyouya's nipple and softly began to stroke. Thoughts became jumbled mush as Kyouya couldn't stand Tamaki's constant teasing.

Tamaki had always been a tease.

Ending the torture early, suculent, air like kisses were gently placed onto the Cool Type's body. They started at the nipple then gradually made their way down, as to make the wait unbarable. Then, the obstacle emerged.

Kyouya's pants.

Never losing the charisma befitted of the King, those once looming fingers were joined by another pair from the other hand and the pants prolonged removal--Tamaki only drew the trousers down a little as to reveal the pelvic area. Transferring his kisses from where they last stopped--the abdomen--, the Suoh heir relocated these small embraces onto Kyouya's pelvic area; he was getting dangerously close to the forbidden area. Kyouya didn't mind. The caress started to become increasingly sultry; one of arousement. Not a word was spoken, but the atmosphere had spoken for itself. Now, overcome by frustration, the now-lost-his-cool type, bucked his hips slightly over; signaling Tamaki to get to the point already. Once more placing his hands on Kyouya's pants to remove them totally, the door slightly opened.

Their eyes darted frantically onto the door as it was harshly shut once more.

Looks of sweat and heat were now replaced with looks of panic and question. When the door opened up a little once more, then closed again, they knew it was their que to fix this situation. It happened so instantly that the whole transition was a blur. Tamaki, half naked mind you, grabbed his shirt and tie and looked for a place to hide. Because of the lack of dark areas or closets, there was only one true secure place to hide; the Black Magic Room. Reluctantly, the blonde ran into the room and left the door a miniscule amount open. The calm one in this situation, pulled his pants back up and hastily half way buttoned up his shirt then put his blazer ontop, fully buttoned; this look was able to mask that the shirt wasn't fully buttoned. For some odd reason, Kyouya ran to the thermostat and broke the slider so it wouldn't move off of 90 degrees. Grabbing his notebook, the Ootori heir ran in front of the Black Magic Room in order to hide that Tamaki left the door slightly open. Now, panting and flushed, Kyouya looked down at his notebook and acted like nothing was out of the ordinary.

The rest of the Hosts entered.

Charcoal eyes intensely followed every motion they did; every word they spoke. The whole scenario had become a blur; Kyouya was so caught up in anxiety that he couldn't fully remember who asked what. Someone made a comment about the whereabouts of his lover but the Shadow King used his calm nature to simply lie and say he had left. Every minute, every second, unused was another bead of sweat upon the young man's face. His face. The yong Ootori-sama's face was present with a flushed expression and one of the Hosts noted that and asked for an explaination.

Kyouya really is a sly one.

Realizing that the average time taken to decrease flushing on a human face is twenty minutes; realizing that anxiety and fear increases this time span, Kyouya already created a divesion. Remeber when he broke the thermostat?

There was his excuse.

As one of the Hosts--a Hitachiin twin is all that Kyouya can recall-- checked his story out, a sigh of relief was said inwardly. It seemed that the two permiscuous boys were in the clear.

Damn Tamaki, such a tease.

Tamaki-- caught up with the fear of turning around and actually facing the Black Magic Room-- stood idlely by the entrance, next to the crack in the door. Being that he couldn't see anything or what was going on, the King had to create some of his own fun. Being the taunty tart he is, the still in the mood Tamaki layed a extremely firey kiss upon the Cool Type's neck. Instead of stopping, he continued manipulating and caressing the precious neck of the one in front of him. These sensations of pleasure and joy were leaping inside of Kyouya but he kept his figure. If Tamaki had been any closer, Kyouya probably would've kneed him. Now, composed and focused, the onix haired slender male stood in the shadows waiting for the over curious Hosts to leave. That's when Tamaki placed a bite upon Kyouya's neck, a desire fufilling one like before, and proceeded to do what he had down before, but this time with more intensity. This act caused a feeling of ecstasy; a feeling so overwhelming that it caused Kyouya to stiffen up for a bit.

The Hosts actually noticed this.

Hearing the voice of Kyouya trying to explain his action, Tama-chan stopped and stepped away in fear that he might cause even more trouble. Left with nothing else to do, brave Tamaki turned around and faced the Black Magic Club room.

...What the hell?

Completely unsatisfied with the turn out, the Hosts gave up hope and left the Third Music Room. Finally, it was over. Kyouya placed his ledger on the table and crossed his arms, reviewing the day's events. He could hear the footsteps of the Hosts fading away. Then they reappeared again. Getting louder and louder; closer and closer. In the end, they reenterned the room but this time were lead by Haruhi.

You see, as the Host Club was walking towards the exit, the Natural Type felt as if she had to show that there was complete lack of complication in trying to figure out if Tamaki and Kyouya were married. In order to prove this, Haruhi said not a word and redirected the group to the Third Music Room. Springing back up, Kyouya adjusted his glasses and returned to full alert.

Tamaki didn't make a peep.

Something was distracting him.

"Ah, Haruhi, what brings you here?" the tone remained unshaken but now Kyouya's curiousity started to grow. The innocent chocolate eyes of Haruhi locked with the midnight eye's of Kyouya as the girl slowly traveled to the area where Kyouya was standing. The other Hosts followed closely behind, unsure of what she was about to do.

"Kyouya-senpai, are you and Tamaki-senpai married?" Haruhi asked, as if it wasn't anything special.

Hikaru, Kaoru, Hunny, and (not really Mori), choked up with disbelief; how could she just ask that?! Of course he wouldn't admit it! It was an idiotic, unplanned, not wise, stupid--

"Why, yes, we are, " a half smile appeared on the Cool Type's face as he openly answered the question he knew Haruhi would be the one to find out.

The other Hosts were in fits of shock; they fell! They couldn't even create the syllables that would create the words that could express their emotion. All they had to do was ask?! How could it have been that simple?! Continuing from where he left off, the librarian type adjusted his glasses once more and said, "Tamaki is behind me, in the Black Magic Room." And stepping to the side, the small opening in the door was revealed. Placing a hand on the door, Kyouya opened it and the unexpected appeared.

When thinking of synonyms for the Black Magic room the following come up; scary, dark, freaky, weird, and WTF?! Expected to be devoured by hovering darkness, barely lit candles, and voo doo dolls of all kinds, the Host club was completely unarmed for what they found was out of the ordinary. They shielded their eyes. The room was bright.

The room was...pink?

Yes, after the department of Umehito, it was Kirimi's turn to take hold of her older's brother's obsession; I guess in order to do that she had to give the place a make over. The dark drapes were replaced by shining tickle me pink ones; the pictures of evil deeds were replaced of ones with happy princes and unicorns and rainbows; the potions and spells station was replaced with a 'make your own sundae' station. And it the midst of this explosion of girl power was Suoh Tamaki, stunned. He was frozen solid because he expected to be scared breathless but, instead, had seen a room full of fantasy; something along Ranka-san's taste minus the sparkly fur and okama bar sense.

Rolling his eyes at the drama king's overreaction, Hikaru sarcastically commented, "And this is who you married?"

With a tiny sweatdrop, Kyouya replied, "Yeah, that's my idiot."

These words were able to break Tamaki from his spell of over acting. No, Kyouya calling him an idiot didn't make him break from the spell; actually, Kyouya called Tamaki and idiot all the time so it was something new and sometimes they had been able to make a very entertaining game out of it that involved roleplaying, bondage, whips, and a bed that is probably very traumatized by now. But hearing Hikaru acknowledge that the two were married made Tamaki's state of confusion multiple ten fold. Turning around, facing the other people, Tamaki looked at the Hosts but addressed Kyouya, "They know we're..." Taking a step or two, Kyouya was now located by Tamaki's side and replied, "Married? Yes, they know." In a subtle move, the one who lurks in the shadows wrapped his arms around his prince and whispered so seductively, "That isn't a problem, is it?" A tomato red blush rapidly appeared upon Tamaki's face as he tried to stutter a response. Mori blinked blankly, Hunny showed off his trademark smile, Haruhi smiled lightly, and Hikaru and Kaoru looked like they were going to gag. Haruhi corrected this by elbowing them and whispering, "Don't act like that; I've seen what you two use to do afterschool in the music room." Immediate matching blushes followed as the two cut off their smart ass remarks.

Removing his arms from the Princely Type and helping him up, Kyouya stated, "Let's go now."

Every flocked out of the Black Magic room--seems like an odd name now, ne?-- and into the Third Music room. Hurryingly, the Hitachiin twins, the Wild and Loli-shota combo, and the King himself stepped out of the room leaving Haruhi and Kyouya, who was locking up the Black Magic room.

Now, it was just Haruhi and Kyouya.


	9. And Then There Was Two

'Ello loves! FINALLY I decided to get off my butt and make the next chapter xD And if none of you have seen I have written--or have started to written-- a PREQUAL to Perfect Little Lie called Devilish Good Looks. See, at the beginning it may not seem anything related to Perfect Little Lie but don't worry, towards the end I know how I'm tieing it in :D ALSO! I writing the prequal more so to help you guys understand the SEQUEL to Perfect Little Lie (whose title I have not decided yet xD). So, Perfect Little Lie is almost done and I figured how I'm going to end it so yay! And read DGL and keep an eye out for Perfect Little Lie's sequel :DDDDDDDD

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And then, there was two.

Alone in the desolate Host Club quarters stood the complete opposites of each other. Like heaven and hell. Good and evil. Right and wrong. Innocent and sinister. The air clung to the tension that neither of the two felt; what would happen next? Would Kyouya latch to the neck of the girl he's hated for ten years? Would Haruhi expose Kyouya's shameful secret? Or, will Strawberry Smirks plug in an advertisement for her prequal again? Who knows! But what we do know is that Haruhi disliked unmeaningful silence. And what we do know is that Kyouya has a habit of saying what's on other people's minds.

"You knew all along, didn't you?" the words came out effortlessly; Ootori-sama calculated that Haruhi would have the wit to be the first one to figure it out. She always had to be the first.

For **everything.**

As any normal person would react, the innocent being was taken back a bit by the Cool Type's words. Kyouya had a way of knowing everything; at first it was creepy, but now Haruhi has adapted to it. "Yes, I did; I read it in the newspaper..." her voice trailed off towards the end; had they grown so apart that she had to find out about Tamaki's and Kyouya's wedding through a newspaper? All three of them had been close at one point; all three of them even fought at one point. Even her and Kyouya shared the previously stated two points, only the two of them. Yet, brothers and sisters always quarrel and love so it was probably nothing out of the ordinary. But that is another story for another time; let's return to the scene at hand.

"That's what I thought," the monotoned male replied as he straightened up a few miniscule files on the table; cleaned up, like he normally did. "You'd think that if those fools"--Kyouya tended to say 'fool' a lot but it was not a derogatory term--"read the newspaper every once and a while they'd see some information that could save them a lot of hassle." A little chuckle was Haruhi's reply; he was right. If Hikaru, Kaoru, Hunny and Mori--actually Mori did read the paper but not the social section--bothered to read the news they would've found out a long time ago that the secret couple got married. Alas, news is such a trivial thing to the fools that they don't bother with it. If the fools had read the paper more often, they would've known about the deaths.

Yes, there was more than one.

But, you see, Haruhi did read the newspaper; Haruhi did know about the deaths; to bring up information so terrible at this point and time would feel very uncomfortable for the girl--yet, an obligation to give condolences emerged from the Natural Type. In case you didn't know, Kyouya and Tamaki's fathers are dead. Cold and dead. It was a perculiar incident, one that the newspapers were banned to leak too much information about. Haruhi began.

"Kyouya-senpai, I'm sorry about--"

Again, Kyouya always has a way of reading people's minds.

"Don't worry about it Haruhi," he returned her statement in a calm and cool tone as usual. Oka-san was able to talk about the situation so easily it was a bit eerie. "That's the life they chose." Why would the life they chose cause them death? It happened --and was explained--like this: being that the heads of the Ootori and Suoh businesses are wealthy and all-powerful, they're able to gain many enemies. On March 5, during a meeting between the two men, the dual fathers were shot, by a sniper. There were no traces as to who the sniper was or even who was behind the whole plot; everyone figured that it was an assasin hired by rival companies to take down the all mighty businessmen.

The case was closed and left at that.

Still, when Haruhi read about this tragic event her lawyer sense started to tingle. It didn't add up. However, no one else could figure out a more logical solution; Haruhi still wasn't satisfied. This was not the time to ponder about the situation or even inquire more information--that would be rude to Kyouya-senpai. Luckily for the both of them, Tamaki bursted through the door--in Tamaki fashion.

In a blaze, the idiot swiftly entered the room and addressed both beings by their nicknames.

"OKA-SAN! MY BELOVED DAUGHTER! They are making commoner's coffee!" Tamaki's heart flipped with joy at the mention of his long lost commoner's treat. Kyouya-senpai and Haruhi-chan gave off a sigh in unison and--before being able to speak once more--were dragged by the arm by their beloved Tama-chan.

The Third Music Room was empty once more.

Until the next day, anyway.

* * *

Short chapter X.x I promise I'll make it up:D 


	10. Father

X.x Ugh! I'm so sorry! I finaaaaaaaaally updated and I promise, it'll be worth it :DDD And, my Microsoft Word still isn't working so sorry for any mistakes anyone runs into T.T (THIS CHAPTER IS CRAZY LONG! But definitely worth it :DDD)

* * *

Kyouya's Log

April 27th, 2007--

Why am I like this? For a person who's calculated every move to precision, sometimes my own action perplexes me; this shouldn't bother me. This shouldn't bother me. Yet, my counterpart knows it has. Sometimes it scares me how much like me she can be.

But this shouldn't bother me.

This shouldn't bother me.

Dammit! Why is this bothering me?

I've never wanted to embrace someone

or kill someone

as much as I want to right now.

Relax. That's what my better half always tells me.

You know, I've never thought I'd be entangled in a love rectangle; it always sounded cliche to me.

* * *

Rose petals airlessly drifted across the room as the scent of cakes and fake love wafted throughout the atmosphere. Young ladies melted into a puddle of mush at the preordered smiles and mad lib type compliments; young men hide their true emotions enough to dazzle these trophy wives. Oh, yes, they were all fake. Yet, fake happiness is as benefitial as the real thing, ne? When entrapped in a world full of trophy husbands and wives, it's hard to be a natural--a Fujioka Haruhi--but, hey, what can you do; worlds are all occupied by perfect little lies. That was the basis of this club, anyway. 

And, thus, the Host Club was open for another day of business.

No themes today, oh no, when you are blessed with such rare weather it doesn't need to be spoiled with gaudy themes. It was rainy, for once. Gray clouds shrouded the sky, all judgement, and each customer's mind; rainy days can be romantic, or tragic, it depends on your outlook. But, these were Hosts, so to them it had to be romantic.

Instead of a vast amount of scenes--whether it be twin love or Loli-shota love--occupying the scene, gossip and chattering of young ladies acting like even younger ladies commenced. No twincest here, it's the gossip corner. What was perculiar was that most of the customers had strayed from the other Hosts and focused on a specific two.

The dual Hitachiins hadn't even tried to bring upon the brotherly love act; with the miniscule amount of customers they had that day, they were all talking.

"They're married?!"

"We know! We were shocked when we found out too!"

"Now they're really Oka-san and Otou-san, ne Kaoru?"

Hunny's consumption of cake was lacking--granted, he still ate a healthy amount, but not the towering amount as usual; Mori-senpai stood as stoic as ever, needed as more of a listening ear than anything else.

"That's so cute!"

"I know! Kyou-chan and Tama-chan make a cute couple; don't you think so Takashi?"

"Ah."

The Natural Type wasn't the typical girl, obviously; gossip wasn't something that interested her all that much. Of course, the he/she could've faked her way through a conversation anytime but different thoughts ran amok in her mind; a heavy law case was awaiting Haruhi at home and--

_"Don't worry about it Haruhi"_

Why didn't that seem right? Natural. Cold hearted nature and tendecies were common for the Shadow King, but that seemed slightly askew, even for that mysterious figure. Who could be that, that, venemous? That much of a bastard. Nothing Haruhi could say now; she was probably overanalyzing the situation and replacing her anxiety for that law case with a new, unneeded, anxiety.

_"That's the life they chose."_

It wasn't right.

It **wasn't** right.

"Haru-kun?" peeping customers--though few there were--tipped their heads to the side as the questioned the dazing off Host. "Are you alright? You seem a little off." Like glass shattered, the girl broke from her hypnotic daze and quickly dusted herself off; time to activate that winning smile. "Ah, it's fine; I just think I'm going to finish up some work." The customers seemed to understand, luckily, but, unfortunately, Fujioka-san had forgotten her laptop; maybe she could borrow Kyouya's.

A group of geese is called a gaggle; a group of fangirls is called an overactive embarrasment, nonetheless, they surrounded the two married gentlemen as if they were paparazzi targets--which they used to be. It's easier to display your true personality when it is deemed appropriate--the "norm"; no need to mask waves of ecstasy as bonds between good friends; no need to pass staring off as dazing, unaware of where your eyes rested; no need to lie.

Anymore.

Both parts of the power couple dressed alike, adorning the same outfit the idiot counterpart had worn the previous day. The customers didn't seem to mind; the outfit choice made it seem like one of them was an Antonio Banderas figure who would jump to the rescue of a beautiful damsel in distress...then go make-out with his significant other. Sitting wise, their stature was more embelished than usual; Kyouya crossed his legs while Tamaki placed a piano player's hand on the Shadow King's thigh in a strategtic place; subtle yet affective. What was the most pleasurable from this situation--the one trait that topped all the others--was that there was no need to exceed expectations and dazzle these overzealous women; fortunately, the ladies were gathering more enjoyment watching the two men flirt with each other.

"Ah, Kyouya, you look so cute in that outfit," the blonde king cooed to his queen. Picking up a move from the seme twin, elegant, paper thin fingers based themselves at the bottom of the neck and seductively moved forward, where they gently touched the tip of the shorter man's chin. Rushed, haphazardly, the Shadow King tore his chin away from his seducer and gave an annoyed grunt, "Tamaki, this is not the time."

Oh, right, business hours.

Granted, the blonde may be an idiot but he did know which buttons to press; the Princely Type knew when his queen was covering up for the sake of business. Perhaps charming words will mend the situation? French chocolate? A serenade from the piano? Or maybe pleasures of a more sensual kind.

Without uttering a word--nor an apology--Tamaki leaned in (as did the fangirls) and in smooth, uninterrupted motions, began to nuzzle the onix eyed Host's neck. As the former schoolgirls screamed in fits of excitement, the business man sharply turned his head to the side. "T-T-Tamaki..." Try to cover it all you want Ootori Kyouya, you know you're enjoying this; the light blush that spread across the pale skin like sin confirmed that thought.

What can I say, Tamaki can push buttons.

And that's when they locked.

Not lips, not hands, not skin covered body parts; grey optics filled with cold intentions met upon brown optics from across the room, always filled with innocence. Of course, Haruhi was looking at the scene along with the others so it's no surprise their eyes met.

* * *

_"You certainly worked hard on this."_

_"Well--I--You..." blush spread like rapid fire as a nervous chuckle escaped._

_"Well, thank you for all you've done; it is romantic."_

_"I only wanted the best for you; you and you only."_

_Sting._

_Burn._

_Why?_

* * *

"Kyouya-senpai?" 

Inquisitive words broke the train of thought.

Adjusting his body--having a drop dead gorgeous blonde nuzzling you can get tiring after a while--the Cool Type moved his glasses, catching a glint. That was always one of Kyouya's habits; it wasn't surprising. Taking on that monotone I-didn't-just-get-molested-by-my-husband voice, a reply was heard, "Ah, yes, what is it?"

So formal, yet seemingly so touchy, Kyouya's tone never seemed to bother Haruhi--it was something you'd get used to--the girl furthered her request. "I need to check something regarding work"--no need to be too descriptive--"May I borrow your laptop?"

Maybe if he wasn't getting molested.

Maybe if he wasn't being drowned out by squeals.

Maybe if he had just thought.

Kyouya would've said no.

Alas, he didn't.

"Go ahead Haruhi, it's in the connecting room; everything is set up." Of course, as the business man he is, the Shadow King must be prepared to record all the profit and work with it on his laptop. Thus, the Natural Type gave her thank yous and excuse mes as she left the room to journey into the connecting room, ah the memories. Lights were low, all light came from the windows, as rays gently floated over the antique furniture, the aquarium, the piano; once a dwelling place where Tamaki wasted his talent playing at the request of a sophisticate french girl was now covered in a light film of dust. Aside from the furniture described, was a table with the laptop, and many cords exiting it; so many things went to so many objects--half of which Haruhi couldn't identify--it was all too confusing; all the Fujioka could recognize was the laptop and a printer attachment.

The chair beside the desk soon occupied a very work-minded young he/she; sure, she had had her fun and games but it was time to work. Taking hold of the mouse attached, click.

"Password please."

"Figures," a sigh of annoyment was released from the brunette.

"Password please."

"I guess I should ask Kyouya-sen--"

"PASSWORD PLEASE!"

At this point, evasive action must be taken; the laptop had gone crazy, it seemed. This block of cold metal started beeping, buzzing,--and if possible--beeping. In order to contain this before it explodes--hey, this **was** Kyouya's laptop; anything could happen--the Natural Type started to type in passwords; anything for that matter.

"Money!"

Denied.

"Big business!"

Denied.

"Notebook!"

Denied, bitch.

"What do I type?! It's like it's expecting some ridiculous answer like"--and as the answer escaped her lips, these words she did type--"DEATHNOTE!"

Accepted.

Wow. Just wow. Now it's perfectly clear why Kyouya kept that notebook so close to him...

The turn of events was odd, of course, but at least now some work could be done; I swear, give Haruhi aliens from space and she'd worry about the condition of her home, the girl isn't spontaneous! The Natural Type has the Shadow King's laptop in her possesion; a world of knowledge in your hands, too bad it's wasted on this boring Host.

It had only taken about 45 minutes for Haruhi to do her work, check her email, etc. before the Host had realized there was no need to use the laptop anymore. Of course, Haruhi has never been adventurous but like every other human being, there has always been an inquisitive spark. One little peek wouldn't hurt, right? Besides, all his files would probably be about billing or profit--nothing that could really hurt to take a look at, ne?

Let the surfing commence!

Through word documents mentioning business inflation to pie charts about progress and through very raunchy wedding night pictures, the Natural Type had seen it all--unwillingly, unfortunately. Nothing had caught her eye, thus there was nothing more to do. Exiting the numerous windows, as boring as the task sounds it was difficult to make sure everything was in its proper place, a folder actually caught the young lawyer's eye. Among the paperwork regarding rich bastards and big business, one folder was askew; named differently from the other.

'Father.'

For a desolate king, alone in his own little demented world; for a ice hearted man who didn't sheed a tear at the mention of the death of his father, this folder seemed slightly misplaced. Yet, the uniqueness of it and the vague amount of capabilities it could contain were like the forbidden fruit to Fujioka Haruhi.

Nervous thoughts pondered and nipped away at the puzzled Host; what to do, what to do. "...It wouldn't hurt, besides, I haven't heard the full perspective of the deaths so maybe this will clear some things up," rationalized vocals verbalized reasons why she should open the folder.

Like I said before, Haruhi wasn't one of Japan's greatest lawyers for nothing; convincing herself that this was the right thing to do was simple. At the slow motion double-click of the icon, a new window popped listing three documents: one named 'transcription', one named 'details' and one named 'cease and desist'.

First one explored, transcription.

Long text absorbed the page into a vortex of a large vocabulary only a scholar would have enough patience to sort through; no wonder Tamaki never looked in Kyouya's laptop. Chocolate eyes were glued to the screen, reading every word searching for a deeper meaning.

"What?"

Now frantic eyes lingered onto the page.

"This can't be..."

Now frantic eyes ran on the page.

"No, but..."

Now frantic eyes were jumping all over the page.

I'm going to be straightforward; no sugarcoating, no skipping words. On that page lay something you can't evade, for what Fujioka Haruhi saw was a sight not meant for anyone's eyes; horrible, deceitful, detestful, unbelievable.

The text seem to be a report of some port, all addressed to Ootori-sama (Kyouya) from an unknown source. On one side of the paper there were the words 'Amount Due' and next to those words were the numerical amount of 800,000 yen.

On the left side, there were words that said 'Amount Paid', next to those words was the figure of 900,000 yen.

Then, there was a check mark next to a box labeled 'Task Progress'.

Finally, there was the summary.

The summary read as follows:

Ootori-sama, the task you have requested has been completed. No traces have been left and all the witnesses have been cleared. The plan went accordingly and we have received the payment. Thank you for the generous bonus and we hope we may further serve you in the future.

These words were like binary code: lacking understanding and able to cause a bigger spark of curiousity. A fwe possibilities of what this document really meant ran rapid in the Natural Type's cranium, but she denied most of them. It was one document. Just one. That didn't mean anything. However, to better put her mind at rest, Haruhi clicked on the file labeled 'cease and desist'. As another window popped up--filled with shorter text--the words went as followed:

Attention all media outlets!

I, Ootori Kyouya, am personally addressing all of you as a warning; this tragic event must be kept under control. The Ootori and Suoh families do not want to be bothered and pestered with stories about the death of their fathers. Anything to be run is to first go by me; failure to do so will result in legal action to the fullest extent of the law. Our private police is no joking matter. So, ladies and gentlemen, heed my warning for if you don't, you may not be able to return to Japan.

Harsh.

Manipulative.

Straight forward.

All of the Shadow King's tactics, but why? You can understand why a family wouldn't want to be pestered by the media over the death of a loved one, but, if that was the case, then why would Kyouya want all the stories to be looked over by him first. He could've just said that no stories would be allowed and that would be the end of it. So, why the restriction?

"Is he trying to cover something up?" the realization had hit Haruhi, hard.

But it wasn't until she read the last document that Haruhi figured out the truth.

----------------------------------------------------

Outside the room of mysteries and secrets, the rest of the Hosts conversed with their guests in the Third Music Room. By this time, the customers had spread out to their usual groups; it wasn't because the King and Queen were boring, it was just that Kyouya finally got Tamaki off him and had slightly dozed off--it was kind of cute when you think about it. The Shadow King's head slumped onto the Princely Type's shoulder as the blonde smiled and ran his fingers through the shorter man's hair while talking silently to guests. However, in Kyouya's dreams, it wasn't this happy.

I say dreams, it was more of a flashback.

* * *

_"You have to do this Kyouya."_

_"What? This is madness; it's surely to cause a huge scandal and will be unable to be covered up."_

_"Think about it, father would never except your marriage to that idiot; you'll be disowned. And being that that Suoh kid's grandmother already has disowned him, with his father disowning him as well, he will be poor; both of you will have nothing."_

_"But--"_

_"Listen to us Kyouya, we're your brothers; we know what's best. As much as we'd like to help you if you get disowned, you must realize the risk that brings upon us, so we just can't do that."_

_"You can either sit by and watch all you work for fly by you in an instance or you can do this, gain the company, and not have to worry about the judgement of your **love**."_

_"...Fine; I'll do it."_

* * *

An Ootori never snaps out of a dream, even a bad one; they stir. 

So stir Kyouya did, only to be greeted by Tamaki's smile and kind words; perfect gentlemen behavior. "Ah, you're awake; it's rare of you to sleep in, are you alright?" came inquistive words of support and care. Nodding and giving a light, feather like smile, Kyouya sleepily replied, "Yeah, I'm fine." Which was then followed by an after sleep yawn. Haruhi had been in that room for quite a while but it wasn't until sounds of slight screeches and movement caught the Cool Tyoe's ear.

She was trying to print something.

Figuring that the Natural Type would never dare to intrude on his documents and print them out, the male guessed that the he/she was printing out one of his/her's files and might need some help. Standing as if he hadn't just woke up, the onix eyed man gave a slight bow and excused himself from the group.

The calm before a storm would've been a relief in this situation.

Ootori Kyouya entered that room, closed that door behind him and arrived to a Fujioka Haruhi, next to the window, looking in awe at the documents in her hand.

"I see you didn't have any trouble with the printer, well in that case I'll be going--"

"Why?"

Before the pale legs of the Shadow King could sashay out of that room in perfect harmony, a halt, a pause, a block in the road appear. Haruhi hadn't turned away, strayed away as those deathly words escaped her lips. Kyouya, unaware of her current distress, gave an befuddled response, "What do you mean, Haruhi?"

The Natural Type always had a way of rationalizing Kyouya's thoughts and actions; finding a reason to why he did the things he did. But this was insane, impossible to explain! How could someone be so malicious? Vindictive?

How could someone kill two people?

One being their father.

It was unforgivable.

Words couldn't express these mixtures of emotions; they couldn't give an answer. Thus, action was necessary. Talking slow, slothish, strides the Host relocated herself next to the cynical murder she knew as Kyouya. All she had to do was hold of the papers; the printed documents of what Haruhi read.

Eyes widened, in disbelief. How did she find out? How the hell after all these years was she able to waltz right into Kyouya's life and ruin everything, again.

_Dammit_

The light catching his glasses, the Ootori heir was no longer playing along; no commoner would mangle his documents and go unpunished. Doesn't matter if it is Haruhi. Taking a step forward, hand on hip in ultimate intimidation stance, the heir stated, "Haruhi you know you are to never look at my personal belongings." The midnight haired Host reached for the papers and latched onto them in a calm fashion, but the brown haired Host clenched them tighter; she wasn't letting go.

"How could you do this?" fear and bewilderment lingered in her voice.

"I have my reasons--"

Once again, cut off.

"He's your father! And Tamaki's father was the only relative he had left!"

Beast.

Nonhuman.

Manical.

"When in the business world--"

"This is insane Kyouya!"--no need for honorifics now--"How could you do this? Have you lost your mind--"

"ENOUGH!"

Silence.

He had cut her off this time.

And for the first time in ten years, Kyouya had snapped.

The Cool Type had lost his cool, and all hell broke loose.

"Dammit Haruhi, you've always ruined everything for me!" he clenched the papers harder, his knuckles turning white.

* * *

_As two entities moved towards each other and became one,_

_peeping eyes at the door bulged._

* * *

Alright, Haruhi needed to be the calm one right now; no need to ask what he meant, that would only make the situation worse. Lopsing the voice volume, yet maintaining a stoic face worthy of the Wild Type himself, the young lady proceeded. 

"I don't know what could have possessed you to do this, but that doesn't make it right."

Time to reflect; there was a pause not out of awkward silence but just as a place where they could both catch their breath and calm down.

"I need to tell Tamaki."

What?!

Eyes that were widened now bulged in utter madness; Haruhi couldn't do this to Kyouya, the marriage would fall apart. The man that the Shadow King had longed for all his life was finally his belonging, and now this idiot was going to take Tamaki away from him!

Again.

No, no, no! This was not going to happen, Kyouya had had enough! If he could destroy his father, then this would be a piece of cake.

The pale, lifeless, hand of the Cool Type let go of the papers; seeing this as a sign of retreat, the Natural Type took a sigh of relief. Kyouya is manipulative and cunning, he always has a secret plan.

"I can't let you do that, Haruhi."

That brunette hair bobbed up in shock; what was he going to do? Instead of words, a sound of questioning came from the petite lady's mouth.

"You will not ruin what I've created."

Two hands relocated theirselves at Haruhi's elbow.

"You will not destroy what I've worked for."

Two hands moved up to Haruhi's shoulders.

"You will not ruin my life."

They moved upward, next to the neck.

"You will not ruin my lie!"

Clench.

Grab.

Also known as choking.

------------------------------------------------------------

Those two had been missing for a while, everyone was at ends as to what Haruhi and Kyouya were up to.

"Hmm, Haru-kun and Kyou-kun had been there for a long time..."

"Yeah, I'll go check on them."

------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

A Host left their location and paced themselves to the room, unaware of what waited before them.

Why did her arms have to be so short? Why did Haruhi have to be such a girl? The length of Kyouya's arms, attached to the hands which were taking their revenge on her neck, were too long for Haruhi to reach, to stop. Desprite sounds of pleading were trying to be released but they couldn't form into words, or even syllables.

This was it.

No more Haruhi to ruin his plans.

He got to wring her pretty little neck.

Her face started turning pale, and arms that were trying and trying to stop their attacker started to go limp and give up hope.

Life.

One step after another, the Host approached the room and turned the knob.

Greeted by this site.

"KYOUYA!"


	11. Masochism

It's never until the task is about to be removed from your grasp that you are fully able to comprehend its importance; breathing had gone by unappreciated until that one last breath—that one last chance of life—was being taken away due to the lack of inhaling. Not the fact that life was draining into a pool of wasted years and not the fact that a secret had been uncovered to, yet again, be recovered but the mere idea of such a close frie—then again, when has Kyouya ever been a friend? Never an enemy, but never a friend.

But who gives a damn in the world what he was; the man was killing this girl with no mercy shining beyond the stone set optics that simply gazed on in determination for, deep down inside, the Shadow King showed approval of his sin worthy attack. The moment he had waited for, dreamt of then scolded himself afterward for having such thoughts, had approached effortlessly. However, the forbidden fruit taste of revenge would never pierce the Ootori's lips. Whether it was fate or luck; mercy or pity; on purpose or an accident someone had come to rescue the poor reverse harem anti-heroine.

"KYOUYA!"

The Host shouted, yet felt as though his words had not even pierced the basic layer of the ear drum. We all know Kyouya's cold—he shows distain for any emotion and heart—but, the act of murder was not something that'd pop into anyone's list of "Things Ootori Kyouya is Capable of Doing." Alas, here he was, standing in front of the act itself. Perhaps it was because it was watching someone cling to life or, perhaps, it was because someone he had held a bond with was committing a heinous crime, but the Host witnessing the murder paused for a couple of seconds until he actually made a move to stop the crime.

And with that, Kaoru ripped Haruhi from the Cool Type's grip, causing a loud thud to be heard from her fall; holding her close and only responding to Kyouya with a disheveled woman in his grasps, a pant at his lips and a look of awe reserved in his golden hues.

* * *

"_You're not like them, you know."_

"_Well, obviously, I mean Ta—"_

"_You're not a sadist."_

"_Should I take that as a com—"_

"_You're a masochist."_

"_--"_

* * *

All a person could do at a time such as this one would be to panic; make amends and confess your guilt; plead insanity and hope for subtler, gentler grasp of punishment the lawful society would provide you, but when you're the Shadow King all you could do at a time like this would be remain calm. Kaoru saw him, no way in going around that; might as well get away with as much dignity and sanity as possible.

"Tidy your selves up then; I'll be outside."

Not even so much as an apology. This bloodless being spurted out words with no empathy or consideration; all he merely did was further push those glint catching glasses up the bridge of his nose and give that stone cold line of business nature that was usually reserved for corporate scum or potential murders.

I guess you could call Kyouya both.

And all they could do was stare.

The dual Host victims, if you will, stayed frozen in their orphanage-esque—hopeless and bewildered—as both pairs of eyes ran still on the unfeeling figure that stood before them. Of course, Haruhi couldn't speak; the girl was on the brink of death, what did you expect her to do after escaping from it? She wasn't thinking or even contemplating revenge but simply observing; his movement, his posture, his voice and how such a level-headed person like that could commit such an act.

Murder always seemed to be a "struck by the moment" type of ordeal—if it wasn't premeditated; and if the conniving beast had thought of pulling such a crime beforehand, he wouldn't be so reckless to commit the murder in broad daylight where anyone, like Kaoru, could waltz on in and halt the plan. That's why it made no sense; had Kyouya snapped? Nothing about him, physically anyway, had changed so that left the Natural Type with the question at hand; has the Cool Type always been capable of murder?

With these oh-so comforting thoughts lodged in her brain, Haruhi's brown eyes caught the final glint on Kyouya's glasses as his torso exited the room.

Outside the room, an epiphany struck; like lighting from the air, vast in its realization that it could strike a person dead within thought: the papers. With all the fuss and frenzy, that little cross dresser had dropped the papers and Kyouya never picked them up! The papers of his crime, his guilt, his lie. Logic was soon draining the Ootori's mind as he, surprisingly calmly, picked up his obviously high class phone and dialed a number.

Only, it was disconnected.

The other number that is.

And Kyouya had known for quite some time.

In a time of slight panic, he turned to his one source for outside logic to realize that it was no longer a source.

Back inside the room, however, instead of the depressing act of draining, logic and wits had started to return them selves once more—freed from the burden of fear and entrapment. Those eyes of a savior's, eyes of a twin, darted towards Haruhi and checked her untouched flesh once more to make sure there was no harm done beyond that of emotional wreckage. Still, the cliché comment was needed.

"Haruhi, are you alright?" came the still befuddled voice of Kaoru; he had witnessed what he saw, yet it seemed unrealistic to picture any of the Hosts—anyone apart of that family image—trying to harm another.

"Yes, I'm alright; thank you," even for a violence victim, the commoner was still able to keep that calm in her voice that made her notorious for not being that stereotypical manga character who constantly fretted about "bishies" and "pocky" and any other typically overused Japanese phrase that foreigners try to use in order to sound "educated." But this was not a typical manga situation; this was not something one could blush and giggle over; Haruhi had a mission to inform not only Tamaki, but the world of the injustice that had gone on.

At this point, she was rattled; hastily picking her self up in order to exit the room and avoid any conflict, all whilst keeping in mind how the girl was going to "break the news."

"Kaoru, we have to tell everyone; as much as Kyouya's our friend they need to know the truth," the tone was serious now, not a professional tone implemented by those of the Shadow King's status but one fueled by purity and true motives.

Using one arm as support, the red head leaned against it and maintained his position on the floor. Of course, they'd tell eventually but the male figured that the first person they'd want to talk about the strangling to would be the culprit himself.

"Wait, Haruhi, perhaps we should just talk to Ky—"

And Kaoru had never forgotten how the commoner looked at him that moment; eyes disheartened yet full of rage and justice all commencing at once. Something shy of the usual pure imagine adjusted for her.

"Suoh-sama's and Ootori-sama's deaths weren't an accident; Kyouya killed them."

What the little devil failed to realize was that Haruhi wasn't talking about _her _attempted murder.

"….What?"

Kaoru only managed a slight drop of his jaw; utter and complete disbelief. The will to kill boiled deep inside of the pale vice president, didn't it? It didn't matter who was hurt as long as the Shadow King prevailed with his plans, whatever they were.

"He covered it up well; sending letters to the media so they wouldn't meddle." The Fujioka was pacing this time—in "lawyer mode" if you will, analyzing the case once more.

Were all of them just pawns in his plots?

"Paid well to keep the hired hit men quieter than usual…"

Were they objects of his blood lust?

"Obviously, he hid it well enough to escape persecution from the law; from punishment."

And then, another epiphany parallel to the one going on beyond those four walls bordering the singled twin happened; escaping persecution, yes.

Kyouya was escaping persecution, from Tamaki, not the law.

"Come on Kaoru, let's g—"

Interruption: It makes a point every time.

"Don't do it, Haruhi."

Chocolate optics look shocked and confused as they slowly turned to the person whose hand had clenched her arm in an attempt to halt the pursuit of justice and fairness.

"It's my duty to show that he is punished to the utmost e—"

Once again, a red head rang clear.

"He doesn't care about punishment; when has he ever?"

It took a minute for Haruhi to process this information; despite how silly it seemed, it was true. Breaking Renge's studio's camera when she first appeared; hiring his secret police and giving them insufficient instructions; completely defying his father to stop Éclair and Tamaki; no matter what the consequences, Kyouya reacted with no second glance at them.

He had money and money meant power; no need to be afraid of the law.

So why did he do it then?

"Kyouya's afraid of Tamaki; what Tamaki would think."

Did Kaoru mean….love?

Kyouya? The Shadow King? Care about love? Preposterous. The only thing he loved was his money and nothing more; he'd rather commit social suicide then get hung up over a exaggerated emotion known as love.

"Think about it Haruhi: he's Oka-san, as eccentric as it sounds. Anytime we've seen him do anything out of character, it's been to protect those that he's cared for. He's the 'mother': the protector. Obviously, Tamaki has been the only one who could ever see beyond his cold facade. Tamaki is his lover. Tamaki is the one he's trying to protect from his lies and deceit."

Epiphany three:

The Hitachiin was right.

Breaking Renge's camera: protect the Host Club from getting a bad name.

Disobeying his father: protect the other members as they sought to leave.

Spy on the newspaper club: protect Tamaki from receiving a horrible reputation.

Whatever Kyouya did or had done, it was out of protecting; "motherly instincts", if you will.

Sometimes it takes romance logic for someone to see the truth. Next to the Shadow King, the Natural Type was the most logical of the group; however, she was oblivious to anything in terms of romance. Kaoru, however, was not. Despite his shy appearance and Uke tendencies, the male was able to grasp that delicate concept of emotion and reveal its meaning and fuels to the oblivious commoner.

Silence.

That's always how it ends.

Haruhi fell silent, therefore it was Kaoru's job to speak up. Using that same arm that kept balance to pluck himself up, the younger brother dusted himself off and looked the lawyer in the face with a compassionate pretence.

"I'll let you get yourself fixed up here while I go outside to talk with Kyouya, okay?" a gentle smile was placed on his lips as Kaoru directed his hand to a comforting position on Haruhi's shoulder. Fujioka Haruhi simply lightly smiled and nodded, as a sign that he could go.

And that's what the Hitachiin did; closing the door behind him and escaping a condensed room to flow into an open hallway.

Where an almost murderer noticed his presence and didn't bother to ignore his character.

Kill him? Perhaps. Kaoru didn't seem to be one to yell and, hell, it's not like Kyouya didn't have the capacity to kill but who are we kidding; there was no need to kill the boy, he helped the Ootori, in a way. Still, those light catching glasses didn't halt their gaze off of the twin but merely stayed. How do you break the tension in the air? The Shadow King knew all yet this was a situation where he was unsure of what had happened inside; would he be revealed? Is Kaoru placing that same glance of guilt onto the Ootori as well? Then, a light broke the hall—symbolically speaking, anyway.

The younger Hitachiin smiled, "Don't worry."

There was something about Kaoru's smile; there had always been something about Kaoru's smile. Its ingenuity was so pure it could beat the King's own 100 watt toothy grin; it always had a way of captivating Kyouya's attention unrelentingly.

About seven centimeters.

Their space, at this point, had shrunken; the two faced each other dead on. Somehow the Uke wasn't afraid of the potential killer before him—maybe he knew that, truly, he wasn't that harmful as initially thought.

It was five centimeters, roughly, that had separated their contact now.

For once, the Cool Type had no words; no last line in the scene to captivate the audience or prove a point all whilst smirking and moving his glasses upward. The flame haired male had barely said two words, but it seemed to make everything alright. A guardian angel's comfort through words—Kaoru always had that touch, whether it be now or ten years ago. Despite the situation, the younger man could provide an intangible reassurance.

Two centimeters now.

"Closet Uke."

Another two words from the Hitachiin that dodge the usual comfort zone and went for a comical affect as the boy laughed and turned away from Kyouya's awfully close face. And, surprisingly, the elder male simply smirked—one of a playful nature—and tousled his hair as he stated, "Ten years and now is the moment you decide to bring up a quote from the past; figures."

One figure, then two moved away from the doorway and into a hallway that echoed old laughs from the past and reemerged with quiet chuckles shared between good friends after a moment of crisis.

Inside, however, was no laughing matter.

Tamaki, being that curious little demon we all love him to be, was curious as to the whereabouts of his lover, his daughter and then, I suppose, his son.

Haruhi, being the startled logic mess we all support, was in an organized rush to clean up the papers from the floor.

It happened like lightening; only difference, lightening is less painful to bear.

Clients are quite an unusual bunch; always wanting different fantasy requests and so on and so forth. However, hearing about their businesses was interesting. A certain amethyst eyed male intentively listened to once specific young lady speaking of her antique weaponry collection which she'd showcase on tour at select museums. Doesn't sound all that interesting but it was more fascinating when an actual relic was seen in person.

The eccentric individual pulled out from a brass case, inscribed and indefinitely ancient, an aged gun; nothing fancy, though, it was more of those small pocketed guns you'd see western stars place in their boots as a weapon at the last moment.

You'd think a woman of her dignity would, well, have some dignity; think again.

As I've stated before, customers are obsessed with their cosplays; coincidently, Western is a cosplay. It took a couple moments of begging, squealing, and a threat of Renge sitting on him, but Tamaki agreed to the task; he'd "act" like a cowboy. The owner of the antique pistol placed the item in the King's hands—safety on, of course—and awaited him on the other side of room, acting as a damsel in distress.

Then the imaginary battle started. Tamaki's Inner Mind Theatre produced a setting of the wild, wild, West, complete with tumbling weeds, theme music and that damsel of a client being replaced with a damsel Kyouya, scantily clad in a dress. Pow pow! The idiotic blonde pointed the gun at an imaginary opponent and provided his own sound effects. One down! Pow, pow, pow, BAM! Suoh was a sharp one; another enemy down! He was pulling into the final moments of the climatic fight, when he heard another sound effect, one not of his own creation.

It seemed to have come from the other room. Thinking about it, a lot of the Hosts had disappeared into that room; was everything alright? Being the father figure, Tama-chan had to check the room—he wouldn't feel right if he didn't. The sound was completely demure; the "damsel" had recognized it as well and seem to also calculate the need for Tamaki to check. However, he was placed in a sticky situation; how can he leave the client? And return the antique in his position? The lady on the far opposite side of the room gave a nod to the head, excusing him from their play. As for the gun, she gave a fan of the hand and nod of the head signaling that the prince could return it later. Tamaki would've walked to the other side, but the anxiety was killing him. Therefore, he placed the relic into his pocket and quickly dodged his way from his client.

Excusing himself from the fluster of girls before him, the playful man made steep and steady going steps towards the attached room in which the Natural Type awaited. He hummed a little tune, something catchy and made up yet upbeat enough to lighten anyone's mood. The King had always had that childlike quality about him; a gift, rather than a curse. But who expected childhood to end like this.

Broken without a trace and shattering every piece of knowledge he had previously thought to be true.

"Haruhi?" a gentle tilt of the head as the bumbling blonde open the door to the dark and dreary room, only to see his "daughter" on the floor picking up something she had seemed to drop.

"Senpai!" After facing near death and revealing a well hide secret, you can't blame even this lawyer figure for being startled by a sudden visitor—especially Tamaki. She jumped, only a bit, causing that slight movement in her body to affect her hands and have her unwillingly drop the papers she already picked.

Well, you know Tamaki: always a gentleman. It didn't matter what the Natural Type was trying to pick up but it did look like the girl needed help. "Ah, let me help you!" the prince exclaimed, quickly releasing the door in his grasp and kneeling down to aid the anti-heroine of this series.

The brunette made an indescribable little sound as she attempted to stop the idiot assisting her. Well, you know Haruhi: sports really aren't her thing. You can't really expect anyone other than an athlete to have cat-like reflexes. So, it's not a surprise that the Fujioka didn't posses that trait.

But if only she had.

Maybe she could've reached the first paper before he did.

The Suoh is never one to be nosy; except for matters with his daughter, Tamaki never interfered in others' personal affairs. However, it was that name. His father's name, appearing on the paper he held. Usually, the blonde wouldn't have read that far but, you've got to admit, after seeing your deceased father's name on a random document after so long, you start to get curious.

Curiousity grows.

Into one document.

Then two.

Then three.

Tamaki's not an idiot….okay, maybe he is but he doesn't lack common sense; you put two and two together and you'll get the correct answer. It may have been hard to believe, but if the evidence pointed to it….

Jaw dropped.

Eyes wide.

And the papers fell once more.

* * *

D: My apologies twenty times over! School, plus stress equals lack of creativity; however, the story's almost over and I'm REALLY REALLY wanting to start the sequel so I shouldn't be neglecting updates for too long :D


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